SERIOUS CONCERN BELOW SURFACE
But even this deadening does not alter the fact that Dartmouth is worried about the war and how much of our future is carried with it. No one has come forward to answer the questions yet. There is tilt usual dreamy hope that everything nil work itself out all right in the end. There is the usual self-comically bitter converse tion about "see you in Plattsburg." There is quite often the realistic conviction thai our future will be largely shaped by tie logic of these events—events during whitl we will have to be informed and smart and working very hard if we are to give ou future any form that joins our past.
Above this subway life at Dartmouthabove the unobtrusive whirlpool of Dart mouth at war with itself over the warthere move only a few easily recognizabltminor backswirls of the war. Therequite a little discussion about the President's convocation address, but it quietedas no immediate action took place. The speech was better received by the student than most of the President's recent stairments of belief; the argument arose overthe question of jettisoning liberalism 'for 2time in order to preserve it in the long runOpposition held that throwing away whatyou were fighting for was poor economy"Practical men" replied that you couldn'trun a war on a democratic basis. Discussionflagged when it became obvious that we weren't in the war yet.
Everyone was very proud of the Presi dent when the difference between point and Nicholas Murray Butlers came evident. You recall Dr. Butler's speech to the faculties of Columbia "Those whose convictions are of such character as to bring their conduct in open conflict with the university's freedom its way toward its lofty aim, should in ordi nary self-resPect withdraw of their own acnary from university membership." It sounded like a reaction to the Middle Ages, coming as it did on the heels of President Hopkins's letter to the American Defense Dartmouth Group in which he said that the group "could not become an agency for facuity witch-hunting or an academic F.8.1. It should be a self-governing and self-directing agency for making democracy a colorful and a positive thing rather than a pallid and dilettante pose." Liberalism is a long way from dead at Dartmouth.
First step in the new process of tightening-the-belt came a few weeks after Convocation when the President sent a memorandum to every student advising that in the interests of national defense a more stringent discipline must be enforced at Dartmouth, that separation from the College would result for those failing to observe the rules of sobriety and respect for the rights of others. (The full text of the memorandum is printed elsewhere in this issue.)
The logical follow-up to the President's letter came from the Dean shortly afterwards in the form of revised dates and rules for houseparties. One bottleneck was removed when he advised the Interfraternity Council to hold its parties on November 1 and 2, over the Sewanee week end, instead of on November 15 and 16 as planned, over the Cornell week end. The bottleneck, of course, was the real problem of crowded eating and sleeping facilities in Hanover. Some cynical souls thought they recognized a nice thing for the DCAC, the Inn and the local merchants in the double party; but it was purely a windfall for them.
A second bottleneck, that of gorgeous misbehavior, was supposedly removed when the Dean later announced that all fraternity bars would close at 2:30 instead of 4 a.m., that all men must be out of the houses by 3 a.m., that there must be no passing of money across bars, that guests must be limited in number and in conduct, and that the Interfraternity Council would police the houses stringently.
I hear a quiet voice telling me that this setting-back of closing hours and strict lawenforcement may only result in more intensified entertainment, an earlier start of the drinking season, and a driving-undercover of the once open and carefree Dartmouth pleasures; but I won't suggest it to am of my friends, and I won't repeat it to we Dean either.
More directly concerned with the national defense is the starting of a Civilian Pilot Training course in Dartmouth, with just 20 men signed up to take flying lessons at River Junction airport and ground-school work in Hanover. No one in College was affected by Colonel Knox's call to the Naval Reserve, but a men leave every month to take their gaming cruise.
the Acuity-administration committee known as American Defense Dartmouth Group (anybody misplace an adjective?) has magicianed out of sight and nearly out of mind all worries that it might start digging anti-aircraft emplacements on the library lawn. Neither have there been any burning of books or public inquiries into suspected Nazi or Communist agents. The Group held a very sensible open forum to answer questions on conscription, which was attended as usual by citizens most of whom could have had no more than an academic interest in the subject. This in spite of the fact that about 500 students registered for the draft on October 16. Some day someone will conduct a thorough investigation into the phenomenal lack of undergraduate interest in all lectures, open forums or other extra-curricular activities designed to educate or instruct. He will come up with the phenomenal discovery that it's cultivated indifference. It's hard enough to get most Dartmouth men into the assigned classrooms for which they pay about a dollar an hour, much less into free circles of learning.
A junior has arranged for his personal defense by acquiring a pet skunk. He seems the logical man to go to for a fool-proof continental barricade.
As for politics, it is the familiar story. "Decisions public and personal, we may say with a gay understatement, are getting to be serious events," The Dartmouth remarked, Most decisions on the choice of a presidential nominee have nevertheless been reached because papa said so; and you know who papa's for. There has been a good deal of banter, not very much acrimony, and very little organized political activity. Young Republicans were set on their way by the National Committee, however, and Young Democrats and an Independent Committee for Thomas and Krueger (who spoke here) organized themselves. These clubs conducted a poll, the Pictorial conducted another, The Dartmouth sounded out opinion too. The Willkie-men have been wonderfully hopeful, the Roosevelt men grinningly confident.
Less than half of the students bothered to vote in the Pictorial poll; 75% of the voters were pro-Willkie. "I was surprised," Editor Bill Broer '4l sadly remarked. "I guess I was naive." There were 699 votes for Willkie, 170 for Roosevelt, 36 for Norman Thomas, 3 for Earl Browder, and 19 undecided. Only 106 of the Willkie-supporters are eligible to vote, only 28 of the Roosevelt men. The quotient of realism is fairly high: 502 men believe that Roosevelt will win, 324 think that Willkie has a chance. As for the fathers, 634 boys said theirs were voting for Willkie, only 14 for Roosevelt, and one for Thomas.
For the rest, the news is no newer than it is every year (an editor of The Dartmouth looking through the files sometimes wonders what it all means, sometimes asks himself if anyone would notice any difference did the paper of twelve years ago appear instead of the paper of tomorrow: change a few names, a few stock-market quotations, and where are you? Yet men persist in talking of Utopia). The seasons still wheel around your living better in Hanover than any place else in the world. Even a defeat by Franklin and Marshall and the approaching thunder of the guns can't take that away from you.
NAVAL LEADER LECTURES AT DARTMOUTH Admiral Harry E. Yarnell, retired commander of the United States Asiatic Fleet, shownwith Robert E. Lang '38, graduate manager of student organizations, and a student questioner during his visit to Hanover on October 2.
